


No Such Thing As Innocence

by lnologram



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gang, Established Relationship, Gangs & Mafia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-09 17:15:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15272382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lnologram/pseuds/lnologram
Summary: Notorious gang leader Red Hood and his partner Blue have a meeting with a rival family -- but will everything go as planned?Prompt:Mob wife Dick and gang leader Jason





	No Such Thing As Innocence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cigarettes_and_Valentines](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cigarettes_and_Valentines/gifts).



“Hey, you.” Jason’s hands slide around Dick’s waist, and Dick can’t help but smile when he feels a soft kiss press to the back of his neck as he leans back into Jason’s broad chest.

“Hey, yourself,” Dick replies, rolling his head against Jason’s shoulder to smile up at him. “Are you heading out already?”

Jason hums and works his fingers under Dick’s shirt, rubbing over the soft skin at his hip. “Soon. Do you want to come with me?” His lips form the words against Dick’s neck, warm breath over his fluttering pulse, and Dick feels his heart swell with how much he loves this man.

Reluctantly, Dick pulls himself back upright, and Jason allows him to do it, hands sliding from warm skin and Dick immediately misses the calloused touch. “You think you need me there?” he asks, turning to face him.

When Dick had first met Jason, he’d been a student at the Gotham Police Academy, running late to his classes and anxiously waiting for his drink at Starbucks. Of course it had been that day that he’d forgotten his wallet, and he’d been  _ so embarrassed _ — until the man behind him had stepped up and paid for him. Sometimes, when Dick recounts the story, they laugh at him, convinced that it’s not true. That’s fine with Dick, he likes that his life has turned into a romcom. He couldn’t be happier with his life, even if Jason isn’t initially who Dick thought he was.

Dick had dropped out of the Police Academy when Jason had taken the leap of faith to reveal exactly who he was: Red Hood, the most notorious crime lord in the city, a ruthless leader who has made examples of his enemies and rivals in gruesome fashions that makes even the GCPD baulk. Leaving a law enforcement career to stand beside a criminal was a hard decision, but when he’s feeling uncertain about his choice, he remembers his mother telling him that ‘ _ Anything is possible for love, little robin _ .’ The idea that his parents would approve of Jason comforts him more than anything else.

“I don’t think it would hurt,” Jason says with a wry smile. “You know I feel safer when I have you at my back.”

Before Dick really got invested in Jason’s work, he’d thought that being his boyfriend (and later, husband) would just be as a trophy. He knows that he’s handsome, that he’s pretty to look at, and he knows that powerful men like to surround themselves with beautiful people. Jason had never pushed Dick to take an active role in the mob, but when Dick started showing interest, Jason had accepted Dick into the life happily.

It had taken Dick by surprise at just how immersive his role as the don’s husband became. If Jason was unavailable, Jason’s underboss and lieutenants came to him as the Red Hood’s mouthpiece. Jason’s power and hold over the gang was reflected in Dick’s appearance; if Dick is well-put together, then Jason’s grip is unshakable, while if Jason ever got into trouble with the law, Dick would be expected to look disheveled whenever he was seen in public. Luckily, Jason has enough of the GCPD in his pocket that Dick hasn’t had to do that, but he knows that the few uncorrupted officers like Commissioner Gordon are gunning for a reason to arrest Jason.

If Jason is asking Dick to come with him, then Jason feels that there’s a need for a display of his strength through Dick’s presence. Dick pushes his hands through his hair and gives Jason a smile, leaning up on his toes to brush a soft kiss over his lips. “Sure, Jay,” he says. “Give me twenty minutes to primp?”

“Twenty minutes?” Jason repeats incredulously, shaking his head with a smile. “Just be glad we’re not running late.” He pats Dick on the ass as he walks off, making Dick shake his hips at him in retaliation. “Tease,” he hears muttered after him as the bathroom door closes.

Dick leans in towards the mirror and critically studies the circles under his eyes. Darker than he’d like, but it’s nothing a little bit of concealer won’t fix. He has a spot coming out on the side of his nose too, he’ll have to cover that up. Rummaging through the drawer under the sink, Dick finds the makeup bag. It’s stuffed full with different cosmetics both he and Jason have collected over the years, and it takes Dick a moment to find the right bottle of concealer, the one that matches his skin tone and not Jason’s. He blends the cream into his skin, tilting his chin in the light to make sure he’s not leaving any obvious smears or lines, and listens to the footsteps outside as Jason moves away from the bathroom door.

Dick isn’t a fan of heavy makeup, so he taps a tube of mascara against his palm before unscrewing the cap, touching the wand to his lashes to help darken and brush them out, make his eyes appear that touch brighter, just a little bigger. It’s just enough that someone will notice the effect, but as long as they don’t get close, they shouldn’t really notice the mascara itself.

He stands back and eyes himself in the mirror, pushing his shoulders back, glancing over his outfit. It’s casual, a tshirt and jeans, but he doesn’t have any visible stains or ridiculous wrinkles, so with a jacket over top of it he should be fine. He opens the bathroom door and nearly runs face-first into Jason’s chest.

“Jumping Jesus, Jay!” he snaps, feeling an irrational startle send his heart into his throat for a split second. He hadn’t heard Jason’s footsteps return!

“Did you seriously just say ‘jumping Jesus’?” Jason asks incredulously, raising an eyebrow, and Dick pushes him back with a scowl that… probably isn’t as serious as it could be, judging by how Jason’s grin remains unrepentant. “Here, babe.” Jason holds out Dick’s gun holster, and Dick stands on his toes to give Jason a light kiss as he takes the harness, shrugging into it.

“Thanks, honeybuns,” he says, ignoring Jason’s eye roll at the nickname and shifting the weight of the gun under his arm until it sits comfortably against his side. “Which jacket should I wear?” Jason is wearing his hallmark leather jacket, and the bigger man turns to check the closet by the door.

“Hm… This one.” Jason picks out another leather jacket, but Dick’s is black, unlike Jason’s brown. “It’s thick enough to hide the lines of your holster.” Dick smiles and takes the jacket, pulling it around him. Sure enough, even with the jacket unzipped, it hides the gun tucked against his side. He takes Jason’s hand when it’s offered to him, and the two of them leave their apartment together.

Jason’s motorcycle is in the corner of the parking garage on the ground level of their apartment building, but instead he chooses a beat up Chevy in peeling, sun-faded red. It’s something less conspicuous and Dick knows for a fact that the license plates are fake. He sinks into the seat and he can feel the old springs digging into his rear, but when Jason turns the key, the engine is far quieter than you’d expect a rustbucket like this car to be. He eases out of the parking garage and flicks on his signal light, turning onto the road.

The drive is quiet, and Dick ends up rolling down his window and watching the city life pass by. This car is old enough that it still has the proper cranks instead of an electric button, which is a novelty nowadays. The night air ruffles his hair and he watches the street lights flicker overhead as they pass under them. There are progressively less and less people on the sidewalks as they head deeper into Old Gotham, towards the heart of Jason’s territory in the East End where they’ll apparently be having this meeting. A show of power, then. Jason must be meeting with someone who needs to see a strong impression.

They park inside an old warehouse, the car tucked behind several large crates. There’s already a few of Jason’s lieutenants here, obviously preparing for their boss’s meeting, and they give Dick a quick smile when they see him come around the crates at Jason’s side.

“Hey boss, hey Blue.” Natalia tosses blond hair over her shoulder and smiles at the approaching men. “Everything’s pretty much ready for the Skullkrushers’ envoy to show up. We’ve got a perimeter of scouts watching for Batman, so we should get a warning if we’re gonna be interrupted.”

Jason nods, listening even as he glances around. “Thanks, Nat. I assume we’re gonna be in the office upstairs?” Natalia confirms and Jason pats her shoulder as he and Dick head for the stairs. The office is a smaller space that’s more easily controlled, and there’s a few of Jason’s trusted guards already standing against the walls, guns in hand.

Dick leans against the wall behind the desk, playing a mindless game on his phone as Jason paces in front of the tinted windows, waiting for the envoy to arrive. He knows this is Jason’s least favourite part of his job, the diplomacy and politics of it all, and he’s glad at least that his husband felt well enough to ask for support. It’s not exactly something Jason does well, admitting when he needs help.

“Look alive, everybody,” Jason says, and that’s his Red Hood voice. It makes Dick glance up and take notice, shoving his phone back into his pocket. “The Skullkrushers are here.” Jason circles the desk and takes a seat at the desk, lounging back in the office chair as if he doesn’t have a care in the world.

One of the guards outside knocks and opens the door, letting the Skullkrushers in. Dick only recognizes one of the three of them in the vaguest sort of way, which means that nobody too important is here, but still with enough authority to facilitate a deal. Judging by the way Jason’s shoulders tense up, he also recognizes the slight against him by sending an underling to what’s supposed to be a meeting between equals.

“Red Hood,” the leader rumbles. He’s more brawn than brains in Dick’s opinion, in a sleeveless denim vest covered in patches. He’s sure that if the man turned around, the Skullkrusher logo would be across the back. Long dark hair is tied back in a greasy bun, and Dick wants to cringe and take a step back just in case poor hygiene is contagious. The only thing stopping him is that he already has his back to the wall.

“Lieutenant Fray,” Jason responds, not bothering to stand in greeting. “I was under the impression your boss would be here.”

Fray rumbles a flimsy excuse and his two companions linger on either side of the door, fingers twitching for weapons that Jason’s people had taken away long before they’d gotten to the office. It puts Dick on edge; are there hidden guns they’d missed?

At this point, Dick tunes out Jason and Fray as they make small talk, much more interested in the other two men. While they’re both wearing the same denim vest that seems to be the Skullkrusher uniform (and who wears  _ uniforms _ , it makes you easier to identify to both the cops and Batman), they’re both thin in comparison to Fray. Potentially by design, to make the lieutenant seem bigger and more imposing. At least one of them is tweaked out on something, and really, that’s just unprofessional. It also makes him easier to read, since without his sobriety he can’t concentrate on masking his body language. And what Dick sees, he absolutely doesn’t trust. The men are fidgeting, nervous, going for guns at their hips that aren’t there.

“Jason—” Dick says, stepping forward just in time for Fray to slam a knife into the table, just barely missing Jason’s hand spreading out a city map; huh, when had they moved on to that part of the meeting? Regardless, it’s the knife’s appearance that causes everyone to spring into action. Jason pushes back from the table in surprise, and the Red Hood’s guards raise their guns, only to be met with the guns of the Skullkrushers. They’re smaller than the compensation weapons the rival gang prefers, but it gets their point across. Dick, for his part in the span of the few seconds in which all this happens, vaults across the desk with an angry yell, knocking Fray down to the floor. One hand grabs the man’s greasy hair to pull his neck taut, a foot in his stomach to keep him on the floor, and the muzzle of the gun from his holster pressed neatly between his eyes.

“You motherfucker,” Jason says, and Dick doesn’t even have to look up to know the thunderous expression he must be wearing, he just presses the muzzle of his gun harder against Fray’s skull. Jason circles around and crouches down beside the two of them. “So what’s this about, Fray?” he asks. “Did I forget to send flowers after our second date?”

Fray’s teeth grinds together and he purses his lips like he’s about to try spitting in someone’s face, so Dick clicks his tongue at him. “Open your mouth to answer his questions, or not at all,” he warns.

“You took over our territory when you expanded, Red Hood,” Fray growls, eyes rolling as he tries to look at Jason while Dick is holding his head in place. “The East End belonged to the Skullkrushers for years before you came along.”

“You couldn’t keep it,” Jason points out. “I won the East End, fair and square. Is this why your boss didn’t come? He was sending his lapdog to start a war?” Fray doesn’t answer, but even his silence is telling. Dick digs his heel a bit harder into Fray’s stomach, making the man grunt out a forced exhale. Jason shakes his head, as if Fray is a disobedient child, and stands. “Thank you, darlin’,” Jason says, patting Dick’s shoulder, and Dick knows what Jason is trying to say.

He uses the grip he has on Fray’s hair to toss his head back the scant inch it has to hit the floor with a satisfying thud. The man under Dick’s boot doesn’t even get a chance to react, dazed as he is, before Dick puts a bullet between his eyes, spraying blood and brain matter across the floor. The other two Skullkrushers by the door make horrified sounds, but they don’t move, knowing they’re outnumbered in this room. This is not how things had meant to go, and Dick takes a quiet pleasure in the terrified look in their eyes as he puts his gun back in its holster under his jacket.

Jason unceremoniously shoots the second man, standing face to face with the third and knocking the gun out of his grip, kicking it across the floor. “You tell your boss he’s made an enemy. I was content to make an alliance but now I’m going to fucking  _ destroy _ him, until nobody remembers the name Skullkrusher, alright?”

The man nods frantically and Jason steps back to let him scrabble for the door, running down the steps nearly two at a time. “Boss?” someone asks, and Jason takes a gun out of their hands, sighting carefully down the barrel.

“I just wanted to have a bit of fun,” Jason admits, and the bullet goes right through the heart of the running Skullkrusher, body hitting the floor with a dull thud. He hands the gun back and turns to the office.

“What do we do now?” another guard asks.

Jason makes eye contact with Dick and grins. “Now? We go to war.”

**Author's Note:**

> I actually did a lot of research on the role of mob wives that didn't make its way into this fic because the exposition was already getting out of hand. For example: Dick would be expected to wear a lot of black over red, black for mourning people killed by rival families, and red to remember the blood spilled that needs to be avenged. I thought that was pretty neat.
> 
> What a great way for me to get back into fic writing! Thank you to Cigarettes_and_Valentines for such a wonderful, creative prompt!


End file.
